


Carpe Noctem

by roofiechaps



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Childhood Trauma, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Major sexual tension, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, alternate universe - bodyguard au, and eventually going to be your killing machine, baby sister to 3 big older brothers, family angst and drama appropriate for a crime family, snoke is your father, swearing and violence a plenty, trigger happy and loyal kylo ren, ultimate killing machine, very angry kylo ren
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22113499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roofiechaps/pseuds/roofiechaps
Summary: Mob boss’s daughter & bodyguard au. The Snoke crime family is ruthless and prominent in New York, you come back home after all these years for the funeral of your sibling. While most people believe it was an accident, or chasing up all the wrong leads, you task yourself with finding out the truth.  Leading to violent arguments and turbulent confrontations, your father assigns you his most trusted bodyguard to keep you safe.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 16
Kudos: 68





	1. Chapter 1

# I

After all these years being away from your home, you didn’t think that the reason for your return would be under such unfortunate circumstances. One of your brothers going to jail, perhaps, but not the funeral of your beloved sister. You weren’t close with your family, you talked to your Father every couple of months when you needed him to send money to help with university fees and such, but it had been a very long time since you had seen any of them in person.

Mallory was the only one that bothered to visit you - lugging herself halfway across the world to spend Christmas or your birthday together.

_You thought you felt hopeless and alone before…_

You hadn’t talked to your Dad since that night, save for a lone email telling him you would fly in on Thursday and be staying for an unknown amount of time. You didn’t know what to say, and didn’t want to talk to anyone. You reveled in your silence, grabbing an uber home instead of asking him or one of your brothers for a ride. You landed at 1 pm in New York and figured they would be busy. The driver tried to make small talk, but you kept it to a minimum. Directing him where to go, he drove out of the city, entering suburbia and continuing on until the distance between properties grew far greater. Leading him to a particular neighborhood of large mansions separated by sprawling fields and lush forests until you arrived at your driveway. Driving down the long, winding gravel road, large willow trees lining either side, the two of you maneuvered around the circular driveway. pulling up to a stop at the front door. You peered out the window, looking at the dark stone and large glass, the cold Snoke family manor standing tall in front of you. It looked exactly the same as you remembered. Whispering a thanks, you made exit with your one measly suitcase full of belongings.

You had made a silent promise to yourself you wouldn’t come back for as long as you could get away with it. No one could hold a grudge like you, and when your father sent you away to boarding school at the tender age of 13 you never really forgot how much it hurt.

You had come home for one Christmas holidays when you were 16. It had been such a disaster that you hadn’t been back since.

8 years…. The spell broken all because of Mallory. She had been begging you to come home for a long time. And it would seem she finally got her way. You just hated that she wasn’t here to see it.

Walking up to the front door, you grabbed the handle and pushed, only to be met with a force. You almost headbutted the hard, black painted wood, before realizing it was locked. With a sigh and a curse, you knocked on it with your knuckles. _Fancy being locked out of your own house…_

There was no answer, and you knocked again, this time your fist pounding harder against the door.

A muffled voice came from inside, muttering they were ‘ _coming_ ' and to ’ _chill the fuck out_ ’. You held your breath, nerves rising to the precipice, you crossed your fingers and toes it wasn’t your brother Lyon. The door swung open, a gust of wind blowing your hair around your face and you were met with someone familiar.

Dark skin, black hair, and a dashingly perfect smile that reminded you of being a kid.

Finn breathed out your name, his smile growing wider as he pulled you in for a hug, lifting you off the ground in the process. You smiled back, dropping your duffel bag to wrap both arms around him in return.

“Welcome home!” He laughed, separating to look at you again. You went to reach for your luggage but he was quick to pick it up. His eyes met yours again and he maintained his smile, looking you over before he shook his head. “Look at you. All grown up.”

You gave him a wry smile. “That’s the funny thing about time…” you looked past him at the wide expanse of the foyer, proceeding to walk through the doorway. Glistening black, white and cream marble, elaborate moldings and every inch sparkling clean. It all looked exactly the same. “Although, I could say the same about you.“

You had a bit of a crush on Finn growing up. He was closest to your age, but still a little older that you revered his actions and jokes like he was the funniest guy on the planet. He was always around because his Dad worked for your Father, and even though he was friends with your older brother’s, he was always so nice to you. Even if you were an annoying little kid. Giving you a sideways smirk, he used his free arm to curl up and show off his arms, flexing and tensing his muscles. “Well, I uh, have been hitting the gym pretty hard lately.”

“I can tell.” You smiled, if not speaking the truth then only to bolster his confidence he was clearly searching for. You walked deeper into the foyer, eyes casting upward at the tall ceilings. After all these years, you had forgotten how expansive and extravagant it really was. All of it was a nostalgic fueled kick in the face.

“Hey, listen, I’m sorry about Mallory-”

“Me too.” You cut him off. If anything to shut down the conversation so you wouldn’t have to talk about it. “Is Dad home?”

“Yeah. He’s in his office. C'mon,” He shut the large double doors behind him and the two of you walked forward. You glanced at the sprawling hallway in front of you, walking underneath the double curving stairways on either side. As you ventured further, soft voices could be heard. The voices increased in volume, none of them readily recognizable, all sounds merging to create a deep baritone completely unfamiliar to your ears.

“He’s been holed up in his office for the past few days.” Finn explained quietly to you, pushing towards the rumpus room. “You might just be able to pull him out of his funk.”

You sniggered bitterly. “I’m about to make it worse.”

Finn looked back at you. “Don’t say that. He loves you, you know.”

The snigger turned into a small laugh. Agreeing again only to move past the conversation and be done with it. “Yeah.”

You two stopped outside the double doors of the recreation room. Glancing inside the smokey dwelling, you saw no familiar faces. You could rest easy for another minute knowing that you weren’t about to run into any of your brothers. There was about 5 men scattered about, talking, laughing, drinking and smoking. The room was long, filled with a large pool table placed in the center, floor to ceiling bookshelves covered the walls, separated only by windows that peered into the front and the back of the property. Black leather chesterfield sofas pushed to the sides of the room with a few coffee tables littered nearby. It continued on, ending with two more large double doors that led to your Father’s office. You always hated that daunting walk when you were a kid. You gathered it was a deterrent your Dad set in place so he didn’t have to talk to his children that often. They were less likely to walk through a room of gangsters and criminals just to bug their Father when he was working.

“Go on through. I’ll take your stuff up to your room for you.”

“Thanks, Finn.”

You stepped forward, ignoring the looks from people you didn’t recognize, keeping your eyes trained on the doors at the end of the room.

“ _Holy. Shit._ ” Your head turned to the voice, and leaning against the bookcase in the dark corner of the room and smoking a cigarette was Phasma. She walked into the light, towering over your short figure, looking almost exactly the same as you remembered. Gorgeous blonde hair in perfectly in place and immaculately tailored suit adorning her as always.

You let a genuine smile curve your lips, and you met her halfway. Phasma was one of the very few people who you could have said you had actually missed. “The prodigal daughter returns…” her smirk copied your own, and her blue eyes cast over your form. “Looking good, Snoke.”

“You too.” You smiled and eyed her cigarette. Maybe it would help your nerves. “Can I please have one of those?”

She pulled an extra from the pack in her pocket and handed it over. “Don’t tell him you got it from me.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Gwen.”

“I guess not.” She eyed your figure, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Alright,” you sighed heavily, coming to the realization this might be harder than you thought it was going to be. “Time to bite the bullet. Wish me luck.”

She stepped aside with a soft smile. Gripping the cigarette in your hand, you walked forward, ignoring the other eyes in the room staring at you. All faceless lackeys, ready to die for your Father’s cause. Coming to a stop in front of the large double, oak doors, lacquered completely in a dark stain, you took a deep breath and prepared yourself. You hadn’t seen your Father in years, and although you had talked, him seeing your face was a different story. The reason he sent you away in the first place was only more prominent now. Raising your fist, you knocked on the door and waited patiently for an answer. Nostalgia kicking in once more, like all the times you were a kid, standing outside this very door and waiting for your Father to beckon you inside.

_God, that was shit you would have preferred to forget._

A muffled reply beckoned you to ’come in’. Your hand that was vacant of your unlit cigarette gripped the black iron door knob, lion’s head in a roaring position. Some more gaudy detailing. Twisting it with much more force than necessary, you pushed the heavy door and entered.

The room was smoky, the smell of tobacco assaulting your senses first. The room was slightly darker than the recreation room, and when you shut the door behind you, you realized it was deathly quiet. Noise from the outside barely distinguishable in the fortress that was your Father’s office. A stark contrast to the loud men outside drinking and smoking and playing pool and having fun. This was suddenly the sordid den reserved for strategical talks you weren’t privy to as a kid.

His desk stood center at the far end, two back leather chairs in front, facing it. You noticed an unfamiliar man first, facing away from you. Only the back of his head and broad shoulders visible. Then your eyes fluttered to your Father, leaned back in his chair, head resting softly in his hand, eyes focused on the unknown man before they ventured up towards you. He sat up quickly, his position changing the second he realized who had just entered.

“Hi.” He looked the same as you remembered, if only with a few more wrinkles and more grey hair, though the dark bags under his eyes suggested he was feeling more human than usual.

When your Father stood up and made his way around his desk, the unknown man turned to glance in your direction, and his eyes met your own. Eyebrow perking slightly as he looked at you fully.

“Wow, kiddo.” the proximity of your Father’s voice caught your attention again, and you turned to see he was close. Bright blue eyes glancing all over your face, and a smile covering his lips, before his arms surrounded you and pulled you in for a hug. He was taller than you, and your face pressed against his chest. You frowned at the feeling of contact; not because it was unpleasant, just unfamiliar. _You didn’t know which one of those was more sad_. Before you could even think about raising your arms from your side to wrap them around him in return, he pulled away. Hands grasping your shoulders as held you in front of him. “Look at you. You’re all grown up, and…” His voice trailed off as his eyes shined with something darker, more solemn. _”You look just like her.“_

And there it was. The words you didn’t want to hear out of your Father’s mouth. Like you didn’t live in your Mother’s shadow enough already. You were almost all out of fake smiles at the sound of that comment. You gifted a half-assed one to him out of respect for Mallory’s memory.

“It’s so good to have you back home.” you bit back a snarky comment about why the fuck he would send you away in the first place then, also out of respect for your sister. You guess you still harbored some resentment. You pegged it down to your overwhelmed senses and assaulted nostalgia. Being back home was making you feel a lot of things in a very short amount of time, it was hard to cope. “It’s been a while, sweetheart.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes shifted in the direction of the man behind your father. He was now standing, dark eyes staring at you and your interaction with your Dad. A penetrating gaze that seemed like he was assessing you and your words intently. You didn’t recognize him, and you definitely would have remembered a man looking like _that_ working for your father. Strong roman nose, black eyes that looked like he could kill, a scar running down the right side of his face, broad shoulders and large muscles wound tightly under the fabric of his black suit. _An intimidating presence indeed._

“That’s Kylo.” Your Father spoke, walking around his desk. You instinctively followed him, walking towards the man he just introduced, and as you approached the seat, his eyes raked over your form. “Kylo, this is my daughter.”

“Hello.” A quiet voice erupted from your lips, one that you were unfamiliar with. You weren’t even entirely sure it was your own. You blamed this new man, and his piercing gaze. He didn’t speak, or smile a hello in return, only looked you up and down as you moved to sit in a chair, then walked away to the side of the room without a word.

_Jesus fucking Christ. Who was this guy?_

“He will be…” your Father’s words paused and you looked back at him to see him hesitant, “Looking after you while you’re here.”

“What?”

“Since Mallory’s passing, I have assigned some of my men to your brother’s. Kylo is my best man, and I’ve assigned him to you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed deeply. _Was he serious?_ “You want me to have a bodyguard?”

“What happened to Mallory– I don’t think was an accident, and before she…” your Father hesitated once more. Words catching in his throat. You leaned forward in your seat, eager to hear the words spill from his lips. _Before Mallory what?_ You had so many questions, and after the long flight with no sleep the amount of questions had doubled, tripled. You had fought sleep with the processing of information and trying to deal with it in your own way; paranoia fueled reasoning. You wanted to question him intently, but not in front of company, and not while being home all of 5 minutes. But the fact he didn’t think it was an accident? That perhaps Mallory’s death could have been intentional? Now, that was the sort of shit you wanted to hear desperately.

“Some things happened with work,” he continued, “And I don’t want to bury any more of my children. So Kylo will be looking after you while we get to the bottom of this.”

Your gaze flipped over to the man in the corner of the room, back towards you, pouring a drink from the crystal decanter full of scotch. He turned, and you noticed a lit cigarette now dangling between his large fingers. He eyed you with the same look; devoid of any emotion and impossibly hard to read. Though one thing you could infer by the way he stared at you, he didn’t look like it was his first choice of preferred activity; looking after the boss’s daughter. You let your mind wander to the possibilities of his position working under your Father. He didn’t seem like the usual lackey that hung around the Snoke manor, so what the hell did he do exactly?

“No.”

“ _No?_ ” He questioned you, surprised at the notion. You gathered it had been a long time since anyone had the balls to tell him ‘no’.

“I don’t need a bodyguard. I haven’t been home since I was 16. No one knows who I am, and if they do, then they don’t know what I look like.” A lie, though you stood by the conviction in your voice. “I’ll be fine. I can look after myself.” Another lie.

“Sorry, kiddo, but that’s not going to happen,” Something behind his eyes changed and his voice softened an infinitesimal amount, staring deep at your face. Another first. _Fuck_ , something _must_ have been wrong. “you’re all I got left.”

You so desperately wanted to tell him that _’you weren’t her’_ , and that you weren’t destined to fall to the same fate as your Mother. However, the look on his face and the intent behind his eyes, you knew he wouldn’t budge. Stubborn old fool set in his ways. But that didn’t mean you had to do exactly what he said, so you begrudgingly accepted with a nod of your head. Easily ignoring the sentiment behind his comment, especially when you had a whole childhood of neglect at your disposal.

“What time is the funeral tomorrow?"You changed the topic, already eager to talk about something else.

"2 p.m, Greenwood Cemetery…” His eyes cast over his desk. “She’s being buried next to your mother.”

“Okay.” you nodded your head and placed the cigarette you had been holding between your lips. Your father had never seen you smoke, and you figured it wasn’t a secret worth keeping if you were going to be here an undisclosed amount of time. “Well, I’m going to go unpack, sleep off this jet lag.”

You stood up before any more words could be spoken. Already well over this conversation. You glanced in your Father’s direction before turning around and walking towards the exit. Your eyes locked with Kylo’s once more, finding that he was still very intently observing you. You didn’t like that one bit.

Leaving through the doors, you were immediately hit with the loud noise of laughter and pool cues hitting balls - a stark contrast compared to the deathly silence in your Father’s office, and you were grateful that interaction was over.

You were quick to make it out of the room, through the long hallways, up the winding stairs and to the east wing of the Snoke manor. Your bedroom was far away from the madness of the central part of the house. You hoped that most of this trip could be spent in relative solitude, if you kept away then maybe it could even be remembered as bearable.

You ventured to end of the eastern hallway, quiet compared to a lot of the house. Your bedroom doors were left open, you assumed by Finn, who had also placed your suitcase on top of your bed. You walked further in, closing the dark wood doors behind you, and glanced around. It was much like the rest of the house, tall ceilings with elaborate moldings and designs. Floor to ceiling windows contrasted with large red velvet curtains, perfect for keeping out the penetrating sunlight. Your room was almost the whole size of your apartment back home, and you forgot exactly how expansive this place was. Well, there was 16 bedrooms, a green house and a hedge maze, _so how could you truly be surprised?_ Your family loved extravagance and wide open spaces, and if your father was still running the same way he used to, he needed somewhere to keep all his lackeys that resided on the property, and he liked that far away from his own quarters. 

There was hardly any furniture save for a large bed, and a slightly outdated tv and stereo system, and your vanity table. Though all surfaces in your room were lacking a layer of dust suggesting this room wasn’t as absent as it had been for all these years. You gathered your father had his cleaners in here before you arrived and made this room relatively hospitable.

Mallory’s soft voice ran through your head, _’He never lets anyone in there, you know. Just like your car in the dark, dingy part of the garage, no one’s allowed to touch your stuff’_. You had sighed and told her to shut up, she always rambled when she was drunk. _’It’s like he’s waiting for you to come back.’_

You went over to the vanity, hoping that everything was still in the drawers like you had left it. You remembered specifically one item that you desperately sought. Shoving a disgustingly old chapstick aside, along with a hair scrunchie or two, you found the little book of matches you reserved for when you liked to light candles. Taking it with you and sitting on the edge of the bed, you dejectedly lit your cigarette.

Inhaling the nicotine deeply, you collapsed backwards onto the feather down comforter. Letting the interaction with your Father sink in. Shock now moderately subsided, you focused on his words, on what he had said about Mallory. He didn’t think it was an accident either, and he had vaguely suggested that something bad had happened with work too. Obviously whatever had transpired was clearly bad enough to warrant a bodyguard for your protection. He told you that he was working on it, but that didn’t stifle any pain from the loss of your sister. You were hungry for justice and revenge, and you weren’t about to sit around and not contribute.

So, after Mallory was buried, and you were assured you could have a moment alone with your Dad, you were going to convince him to let you help. He owed you that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy! Let me know what you guys think! Formatting was a bitch so let me know if it looks off! Bringing this over from tumblr so let me know if you want the link! Based off this plot bunny
> 
> https://zaneholtzwrites.tumblr.com/post/184987708903/plot-bunny-that-muse-a-is-part-of-a-prominent-and


	2. Chapter 2

# II

Most nights lately, sleep had been restless if it was to be had at all. The last week was spent thinking mostly about Mallory, but regardless you found yourself waking up from a full nights rest. The last thing you had expected being back home. The California king bed was massive, with soft feather down comforters and pillows creating the fantasy you were sleeping on a cloud. The split second before your conscious thought’s took the wheel, you woke up feeling almost… _content_. A visceral and unfamiliar feeling, and then you remembered the chain of events that had led up until this point, and reality crashed to the forefront of your mind.

A heavy sigh escaping your lips, you pulled yourself together and exit the bed. Getting ready for Mallory’s funeral was easier than you thought. Most of your clothes were black, and you had only brought one dress with you appropriate enough for a funeral. You didn’t feel like wearing it, you only brought it along with you because it was instinct when Mallory was around. Forcing you into dresses and heels. The concept of wearing one hurt too much today. So you decided to wear something a little more casual. Dark high-waisted jeans, a black silk shirt and you topped it off with your leather jacket. After applying some simple makeup, you mustered the courage to leave your room.

Last night was spent outlining some questions, accumulating thought’s and reasoning pertaining to Mallory’s untimely demise. You weren’t sure if you were still in shock, denial, or on the track to slowly coming to terms with her death. Either way, you knew only one thing would make you feel better.

So you left your bedroom and headed towards your Father’s office. Nearing midday already, there was far less voices reverberating down the hallway as you approached the recreation room. This you were happy about, unable to deal with unfamiliar eyes casting you over today.

You entered the silent room, though still smokey, you walked further in before realizing you were not alone.

“Well, well, well…” a voice made you still in your tracks. Hairs on the back of your neck standing straight up. Not out of fear, but nervousness. That was a voice you hadn’t heard in a while. “What do we have here?”

Your head turned slowly, seeing two familiar faces. Ares and Roman, two of your older brothers. They were sat in a pair of black leather chairs, smoking in a half dark room in what appeared complete silence. Your nerves simmered, realizing that Lyon was nowhere to be seen. It would appear you were safe for now.

A smile covered your lips and you shifted around the pool table to stand in front of them. Ares was already standing, walking forwards to wrap you up in a hug, squeezing you tightly. Your eyes glanced to Roman standing behind him, regarding you with a smile before pushing your brother away and giving you a hug himself. Your nerves lessened at their apparent happiness to see you. Though, it had always been Lyon with which you had the problem.

“Hey, sis,” Roman pulled away to regard you. Both his and Ares’ eyes looking deep into your face, a minuscule sadness and wanting behind their eyes. If you had a dollar for every time someone had done that you would have been able to pay for your own College education.

“Shit. I mean, I know you always looked like Mom but damn-” Ares sighed, and then continued on, “ _whatever_ , its just- its good to have you back.”

“I just wish it was under better circumstances.” Roman popped in, and pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Seeing one in the hand of your brothers, there was little resistance in accepting his silent offer. Eager to share your nicotine habit with someone.

“How’s school going?” Ares asked.

“Its going well. One more year and I’ll have my master’s.” You were studying psychology, a subject you were eager to learn after living with such a fucked up family. It was the only thing that tethered your sanity to this reality.

“How’s the kids? And how’s Bella?” You asked Ares. You had seen them once or twice, when they were babies, still latched on to Bella, his wife. Mallory had shown you a photo whenever she could get the chance. Happy and proud of her niece and nephew.

“The twins are good. They’re at school now, growing up so fast. Micah, weirdly, looks a lot like Mallory. Mellie though, she looks so much like Bella. So at least she’ll have an easy run of it.”

You bit back a smile, and inhaled the cigarette your brother had lit for you.

Ares was your oldest brother, 11 years older than you were, since your birth he had always been mature enough to have a good relationship with. Despite what happened, he didn’t resent you for anything that happened with your Mother. He never blamed you or your existence for ruining the family. No, that was mostly Lyon’s modus operandi.

The only thing Ares seemed to care about was being a good Dad, and trying to be a decent husband. He was intelligent and self aware enough to not make the same mistakes as your Father.

Roman was similar. Interested only in running the one legitimate business your Father had; a club on the outskirts of your family’s territory. He wasn’t obsessed with the life of crime, or powers of intimidation. He was softer, than all of you. And had kept his private life to himself, just like you had a knack for doing.

Even though you hardly ever talked over the last few years, you still enjoyed their presence. You understood that they had their own lives, and growing up you had wondered why you hardly spent any time together. It wasn’t until you were an adult you realized they were just busy living their own lives. Ten years older than you were, by the time you were shipped off to boarding school at 13 they had already started their trial into adulthood. And under your Father’s pressing thumb you could understand why you would fall under the radar. You were just a kid, and by the time the three of them and Mallory had grown up and formed relationships, you were practically just born. It was easy to understand why you had spent most of your childhood alone.

Ares opened his mouth to speak once more, when it was interrupted by quiet shouting and raised voices from your Dad’s office. Knowing it had some sort of soundproofing you only had a second to contemplate the possible loudness of what was happening inside before the doors burst open. Andrew stepped out, hand on the shoulder of your other brother; Lyon. They shared a look, obviously discussing something heated, your Father’s gaze conveying word’s he didn’t speak, until they turned to glance at the rest of you.

Lyon’s apathetic face turned into something of a small snarl at seeing you standing with Ares and Roman. You felt like you had gone back 10 years in time. Back to the old days when your relationship with each other held nothing but contempt. Once again, treating you like you weren’t allowed to be part of the family. You hadn’t dealt with this shit since you were 16, and were moderately hoping he was over it by now. Though the look on his face suggested otherwise.

“Well, look who’s come crawling back.” He could barely get the words out of his mouth before your Father’s hand on his shoulder tightened. A small gesture that quietened him immediately.

“ _Lyon._ “ You spoke the only welcome you were ready to give. Spitting the word like it was poison.

You walked forward, eager to have a conversation with your Dad. The sole reason you had come down here in the first place. Lyon kept his eyes on yours, and they tightened at the corner as you approached, hate not hidden behind his eyes but seemingly on full display as you walked forward.

Your Father turned and disappeared deeper into his office, while Lyon stayed in the entrance, not moving from his position.

“Lyon,” Ares voice was chastising him. “Chill the fuck out, Jesus Christ.”

He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, only kept his eyes on you. You decided to give him the opposite of what he so obviously sought. Keeping your face devoid of any emotion. Once upon a time his hate for you had affected you greatly, but now? Well, now, all you seemed to give a shit about was Mallory. You stopped at the entrance, standing next to him as you inhaled your cigarette, keeping your eyes locked with his. A show of faith that you weren’t scared or affected by his actions or words. A try at letting him know that his opinion of you meant nothing.

You stepped forward, further into the office and turned to close the doors for a semblance of privacy, shutting them on his ass and sending him forward a few steps. You could hear a muffled cuss word or two from the other side. You stared at the wood with a tiny smirk.

A loud sigh escaped your Father’s lips and he looked like he had gotten no sleep. He collapsed on the chair behind his desk, and pointed at something in the corner of the room.

“Get Finn to watch him tonight, I have a feeling that he’s going to do something stupid.”

You were about to ask why the fuck should you care? And ‘ _of course he would_ ’, he was known for doing stupid things in the heat of the moment. Like that time when you were 8 and he was 13 and he had cut your hair with a pair of scissors because you had kicked him in the nuts.

But then you realized your Dad wasn’t talking to you. He was talking to Kylo.

“Yes, sir.” He nodded from the corner of the room. Nestled between two large bookshelves he sat relaxed in a leather seat, hands on the sides, ankle over his knee. The perfect vision of relaxed calamity in a dark corner. Simply watching and assessing _everything_.

“You almost ready to go?” Your Dad’s voice pulled your attention. His chin resting in his hands and he looked over at you, blue eyes holding sadness. He was burying his daughter today after all.

“Yeah.” You continued forward, trying to forget the man who seemed a permanent fixture in your Father‘s office. _What? Was he your Dad’s PA or something?_ “I just wanted to talk to you about some stuff.”

“About what?”

“Well, I was wondering if you had the case file for Mallory. I was hoping I could take a look at it.”

His head raised at those words, a slight look of confusion on his face and you quelled it by filling the silence with an explanation. “I just have so many questions and I want them answered, and… I know it’s painful for you to talk about it.”

You weren’t completely sure he had it. It was official police documentation after all, but he was a man that appreciated the value of knowledge, and that those who wield it properly can transform it into power. Last you knew, he had a great deal of cops on his payroll, what was one case file regarding his daughter’s death?

He turned to open a drawer, pulling a manila folder from it. It was relatively thin, though the edges of the folder were well worn suggesting he had spent the last couple of days going through it intently.

"There’s some things to still be added. Poe’s coming around tomorrow to drop off the updated documents.”

Your brows raised and your eyes darted back to your Father. “Poe’s still around?” You wondered how he was fairing through all this. Once upon a time you remembered he was quite fond of your sister. One of the many that had a crush on her. You resisted the urge to curl your lips in a smile. Your eyes fell back down, and quickly read through the notes. Skimming the words quickly, you thumbed through the pages realizing you would need far more time to comb through all the information. There were a lot of big words, and you hadn’t even had coffee yet. Pulling out your phone, you snapped a quick picture of every page so you could read it later when you had more time.

“She was found in the apartment, coroner says fentanyl overdose, with traces of cocaine in her system. The official ruling they’re leaning towards is accidental but….” A longing appeared behind his eyes. “there’s another set of DNA at the apartment. They don’t know who it belongs to.”

“Not to mention she was clean. She had been for months.”

Your Father shook his head slightly. “ _Weeks_ , maybe. You haven’t been here.” The words were not said with malice, only sincere truth. Never the less, they made you angry. “We just don’t know.”

“I talked to Mallory. _A lot._ ”

“More than her Father?”

Your anger spread. With the beat of your heart speeding faster and faster, you felt the adrenaline flow to the tips of your fingers and toes. Though you maintained a perfectly still presence, you wondered how that sentence could anger you so much. If it was to do with the fact that he thought he knew her better than you? Or was it that he made it sound like he talked to her so often, while only talking to you a handful of times a year? 

_What was wrong with you so badly that he didn’t think of you as worthy?_

And then you remembered your Mother. How could you forget? Your father never fucking did.

Jealousy and rage pushed aside to make room for cooler heads, your logic reigned King. This was not the time, or place, for an existential crisis. Not in front of your Father, or the dark gaze you could feel piercing your back, judging every movement and word that spilled from your lips.

“Did you know she had a boyfriend?”

His face stilled. Realization dawning on his face before it was replaced with another emotion. He was about to ask a question before you interrupted. It was petty, and you had swore a promise to Mallory to never tell anything to your Dad. But she was dead, and you wanted to prove a point.

“Did you know she dropped out of school a whole year before she told you she did? Or what about how she crashed the Audi when she was drunk and got a DUI?”

You could see his anger boiling up, not knowing if it was directed at you or her. This was not going the way you thought it would. Not on your second day here anyway.

“I loved her too.” You tried to dampen the caustic anger that you and your Father shared. “And all I’m saying is… _she was clean_.” If there was one thing you were sure of it was that. “I just want to help find out what was going on.”

You couldn’t tell him why exactly, because that was a promise you were willing to keep. But Mallory had a close call that almost ended her life, scaring her so badly she hadn’t even had the temptation to touch the stuff again. She had been clean for months, this you were sure of.

Your Father stood up, “Whatever happened, I’m working on it.” He walked around his desk, coming to grab the folder from your hands. Not with haste or anger, he simply appeared to be done on the subject. “I don’t want you involved, your safety is more important.”

The folder was thrown on his desk behind him, and he turned back around to face you, straightening the tie on his black suit. “I’m leaving in about half an hour, you want to come in the car with us?”

The change of subject should have been a shock. Though you were reminded that this was your Father’s way of abstaining from anger with his daughter’s when his son’s usually got screamed at, or slapped. He was trying not to lose his calm manner, and even offering some form of an olive branch in the form of a ride.

You swallowed. “I kind of feel like driving. Is my car still in the garage?” Another excuse, but you didn’t want to ride in the close confined quarters with him as your company. 

“I have the mechanic look at it every couple of months, he assured me it was in pristine condition.”

You would have thought that was sweet, doing something nice for you. Though you guessed his ulterior motives lay with the fact that it was your Mother’s car before it was yours. Unable or unwilling to sell one of the last things he had of hers, he passed it down to you instead. No one else had wanted it. Not when your Dad was willing to hand out Lamborghini’s and Aston Martin’s as well.

“Thank you.” Void of sincerity, though no one would have known it, you stood up and moved towards the doors of the office. One last look in Kylo’s direction confirmed his powerful gaze was still trained on you. You quickly looked away, eager to get away from the whole confrontation.

—

The Snoke family mausoleum was constructed from dark marble. The very same that littered the inside of the manor. It stood tall and large nestled amongst the others in Saint Catherine cemetery, proud in its construction and flashy exorbitance.

You guessed there was a reason; if not for the fact your Father did everything with an expensive flourish, then because it was an extremely important plot of land for him personally.

Elizabeth Snoke was your father’s everything. You had never experienced their relationship first hand, though people had said many things about how he was before her death. She was a vision, renowned for her beauty and grace and kindness - which always confused you greatly. You were often compared to her and those were traits you _definitely didn’t fucking possess_. She softened the anger and ruthless nature of Andrew Snoke, so much so he decided to have children and raise a family with her while still running the family business.

You gathered it was an natural reaction - your father building a mausoleum to house his late and dearly beloved, room enough for himself and eventually his children to slumber when they passed. You figured Lyon would have been the one to die first, running his mouth to the wrong person the reason for his premature demise. Maybe even your Dad; you didn’t think it would be Mallory.

The sun shined bright overhead, cloudless blue sky providing little shelter from the warmth of the day. Large, black sunglasses on your face, you listened to the Priest prattle on, reciting a verse from the bible about the dead finding peace in heaven. You stood beside your Father, your three brothers flanking either side. All clad in black, the five of you stood in solemn silence, contemplating on the memory of Mallory.

When you showed up in your car, you had expected to see some of her friends she talked about, anyone other than your family. Finn, or Poe paying their respects, maybe Phasma, even if out of respect for your Father. However, your Dad had assured you it was a private matter, _just family_ , he had said.

_Fuck, Mallory would have hated this._

But funerals weren’t for the dead, they were for the people they left behind. If this was his way of grieving, then you would allow him the tiny modicum of space and privacy he needed to do so.

You were ready to put your energy elsewhere, however.

The Priest finished his sermon and offered anyone else to speak any words if they wished. Silence stretched, your family stoically standing still. Everyone’s eyes cast down at the shiny black lacquered casket housing your sisters body. You were thankful it remained closed.

You didn’t know what anyone would have said. You had no expectations for a speech from your Dad. You understood that the men in your family found strength in silence in times of sadness.

_If you were a Snoke, you simply just didn’t talk about it._

The Priest waited, sending a look towards your Father, who simply shook his head and cast his eyes down at the casket. He came over, said his condolences to you and your family, before stepping away, giving you a some privacy.

Your concentration drifted, to spy at the army of slick black vehicles your family had come in, Snoke lackeys towing along. They remained scattered around the perimeter at a distance. Making sure to give your family your privacy and provide a protective barrier. Though from this distance you didn’t recognize or know the name of any of them, a part from one. 

Kylo leaned against your Dad’s Rolls Royce Phantom, cigarette between his fingers, eyes fixed on what was happening. Completely focused on the service and your family.

Hair tousled slightly from the wind, crisp black suit covering his tall, broad figure. It was too far to tell but you felt like he was staring at you. Noticing his blatant presence suddenly made you cautious of your movements.You didn’t like his piercing gaze.

You weren’t completely sure what he did around here. He didn’t interact with other people that worked for your Dad, not that you had seen, and he was obviously trusted enough to be privy to most private family matters that happened in your his office. He had served to quickly make you feel vulnerable and self conscious; _maybe that was Kylo’s purpose?_

Though his broad muscles stretched under the perfectly tailored suit begged to differ. He was large enough to cause some damage it seemed, and the scar that ran down the side of his face suggested he had either seen and or done some violent shit.

Regardless, your interest was piqued.

Pathetic service over, the workers that waited were ushered forward, moving Mallory’s casket into the crypt. Preparing to place her within her allotment before beginning the process to seal the door.

“Dinner tonight?” Your Father’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“I said,” he stood next to you, hand resting on Roman’s shoulder, and he pulled his children into a little circle. “How about dinner tonight? Family back together again… and we can say goodbye to Mallory with a drink.”

You said nothing - sitting down at a dinner table with them seemed like a fucking nightmare. Roman nodded his head, Ares agreeing, Lyon looked like he was about to say something until he saw the look on your Dad’s face.

Morose, fighting back whatever turmoil of emotion with a clipped smile. Brave face a complete facade. Lyon eventually agreed. Everyone turned to look at you, and you bit back a sigh.

“Sure.”

“Great.” He pulled away from his children. “I’ll see you back home. I’ll get the good Scotch out.”

Lyon pulled off with your Dad, leaving the 3 of you alone. Roman sighed, looking once more at the workers sealing off Mallory’s casket in the crypt, then turned to you and Ares. “I’m heading back home. See you there?”

You two nodded, and then turned to one another. Ares smiled and put a hand on your back. Your Father was making his way back, Lyon and Roman following behind. Your eyes scanned the perimeter your Andrew’s men had made, slowly walking back to the fleet of vehicles, following your Father like dogs.

“Fuck this.” Ares sighed, “I gotta get out of here.” You nodded, and turned to walk back with him, back to where everyone was starting to gather around the cars.

“Are you okay?” you asked him. You figured you knew the response but he always did seem the most emotionally available of the family. Even then, it was a rare sight.

“I’ll be okay. How about you?”

“I miss her a lot, especially being back home…” you looked forward at the criminal mess that was your family and your family’s business. “But she’s dead, and I gotta get used to it.”

He bitterly laughed in agreement, “In other news, the car’s looking good. I forgot that thing was even in the garage.”

You followed his gaze to your car, the very last in the line. Your pristinely clean 1974 Datsun 240z, a shiny, polished beast on dark wheels. You had to admit, your Mother had taste, and with a few adjustments - cosmetic and mechanical - made after your sixteenth birthday it really had become a magnificent sight.

“Thanks. It was tucked in a corner, cover over it and all. But you know what Dad’s like with her shit.” The few items left to prove her existence; a car, an oil painted portrait hanging in the library, and a few others, were immaculately kept and preserved.

“I sure do.” Ares snickered a little. “You gonna come have a drink at home? Dad’ll be pulling out the Macallan.” He tried to sway you with extremely good whiskey.

“I will soon, I just got a few errands to run first. Then I’ll be home.”

“Errands?” he questioned, his brow furrowing. “The fuck kind of errands you got to do now?”

“I have to go the pharmacy and get a few things, and then buy some new clothes since everything I have is back home. I thought it was going to be in and out sort of trip.”

“Alright,” he accepted the answer, “See you back home then.”

The two of you separated, going to your cars. Your jumped in the drivers seat, rolling down the tinted windows to let some of the stagnant heat out. As you pulled a cigarette from your middle console, your eyes found themselves wandering back to your family. Slowly piling in their respective vehicles, your Father’s men following suit. About to head back to the manor to get fucked up for the memory of Mallory.

You were glad you parked at the very end, watching their cars pull off, one by one, all towing in the line and heading for the northern exit of the large cemetery, towards home. 

_You had lied._

You didn’t need to go to the pharmacy, and you had brought enough clothes to last you a week, you just didn’t want him privy to your whereabouts. You weren’t sure what he would do with the information.

You remembered your sister’s voice, soft and kind, telling you stories of her friends over the video calls you would share on a regular basis. She had talked about Lacy often; a dancer at a club owned by your Dad. They had met while in College and had been close ever since. You had met her once or twice before you moved away, but weren’t close with her like Mallory was.

You figured if anyone was going to know anything about Mallory before she passed - she would be a good place to start.

You turned the ignition, engine roaring to life with a deep rumble. Lighting the cigarette that now dangled from your lips, you shifted into first gear and pulled from the curb. Making your way off to the Supremacy.


	3. Chapter 3

# III

You sat in your parked car outside the Supremacy. The facade of the building was seemingly unchanged since you had last seen it all those years ago. It was a large, two story building in a relatively nice neighborhood. Dark stone stretching almost half a block, black windows obscuring a view inside, and a neon red sign with ’ _The Supremacy_ ’ in a cursive font hanging over the door.

It was a long shot coming here, but you were still working up the courage to go to Mallory’s apartment. You figured this was a suitable stepping stone. She had mentioned her friend in passing conversations, had apparently worked at the establishment for years. You didn’t know what time she worked, day or night, and she probably wasn’t even here today but you didn’t want to head back home right away. And it was a long shot in which you were wiling to investigate a little further. You had to start somewhere.

There was a lone member of security outside the front doors. Black clothes, tall figure, imposing; completely the modus operandi of your father’s workers. There was no line to get in, not unsurprising given it was mid afternoon on a Friday so you straightened your leather jacket and walked up to the bald, intimidating bouncer.

His eyes looked you up and down, before quirking an eyebrow. “ID?”

You pulled your ID from your pocket, where it was nestled in between your card and your phone and handed it to him without fault. He looked it over, eyes checking the photo matched your profile before he looked back at the driver’s license. His brown eyes widened profusely, and he handed it back to you.

“Sorry, Miss Snoke.” He stepped the side, an arm outstretched to welcome you into the establishment your father owned. You entered a dark hallway, bass in the music traveling further, blackout curtains separated as you walked through. Your eyes were assaulted by bright, colourful lights. Dancing wildly around the room in perfect time with the music. Four elevated stages, with poles that stretched to the ceiling were placed around the room, seats arranged the stage. Tables were littered in between and a long bar was nestled against the far wall. It was slightly more busy that you thought it would be, your expectations exceeded to see a woman dancing on a stage, six men littered around her in various seats. A few more patrons sat at a table, two women talking to the group, flirting and petting the men in their suits.

You had never actually been in the Supremacy. But it was a classier joint than you extrapolated. Surfaces looked clean, and the air was fresh with a hint of perfume. Black furniture, and red silk curtains hanging from the ceiling provided some tables extravagant privacy on the wall opposite the bar. Large stairs in front of you wound up to the second floor. Another set of double doors were open, revealing a long hallway that disappeared. A glass railing on the second floor surrounded the deck, and you noticed it linked all the way around to a second floor office. The front wall of the office consisted entirely of glass, a suitable viewing precipice for whoever ran this place for your father now.

You spotted a male bartender working, polishing glasses and stocking the bar. A young man, maybe in his late twenties, blonde hair and blue eyes, black uniform t-shirt that simply had ’ _The Supremacy_ ’ in the same font. You walked forward, weaving through the empty tables before you stepped up to the bar. He looked up, smile painted on his previously vacant face, and put down a glass and a polishing rag.

“Welcome!” His eyes raked over your form quickly, and it felt like he was vaguely ogling you. “What’s your poison?” 

You gave a half assed attempt at a smile, “I’m not here for a drink.”

“Hmm,” he hummed in interruption, leaning forward on the bar. “A dance? A job, then?” 

You bit your lip, “No-” 

“I mean, you’ve got a great body but, darlin’, this is one of the best clubs in town. Girls are dying to dance here.” 

You were sick of him interrupting you. Ogling you. You had little patience today, so you decided to tell a half-lie just to shut him up. “I know. My Father owns this place.” You had no idea of the waiting list to work here, but you pretended. 

His face stilled and he leaned back slightly. You pulled your ID from your pocket once again and waved it in front of his face for good measure, then placed it back into your jacket. “I want to talk to Lacy. Is she around?” 

He reeled, “Look, I didn’t mean no disrespect, I had no idea-” 

“I don’t give a shit.” You interrupted him in turn. “It’s important, I just want to see Lacy. I don’t know her stripper name but I know she works here.” 

“She’s not in, she hasn’t been in for a few days, I don’t know her work schedule but I can get the manager? He’ll know more than me.” 

You nodded your head. “Okay, sure.” 

He leaned over, leaning his hand under the bar, he pressed something and his eyes averted up to the office you had spied previously. He withdrew his hand and picked up the glass and rag once more. “He’ll be down in a moment. Wait here.” 

You nodded, and watched as he moved down the bar slightly, back to restocking the glasses on the wall. 

You gazed around, music changing as the dancer walked off the stage after collecting her money, another dancer filling her spot. The men didn’t move, cigars between their lips and drinks in hand, patiently waiting to get their fill. All men looked successful, and had amber liquid swirling in their glasses. Suits adorned their bodies and shiny watches adorned their wrists. It was easy to assume this was a classy establishment, catering to more high paying clientele. 

Which confused you slightly because this business had originally started as a front. It was a way for your father to launder money from his other ventures that were less than legal. Or a way to siphon a small amount anyway - he had a few legitimate businesses for this purpose now but the Supremacy had been one of the first. 

Clearly, the Snoke name was still among high standards of rich and elite of New York. Your father had all sorts of friends in all sorts of places, and almost all of them owed him favors. Politicians, lawyers, moguls - clearly they all wanted to be a part of something bigger, something mysterious. The Snoke crime family. 

A blur out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. At the top of the stairs you noticed a tall figure in a dark, all black suit. Pale skin, bright red hair, and a caustic confidence you could feel from basically halfway across the room. 

_Armitage Hux._

You didn’t fight the smirk that curved your lips as your eyes locked with his. A chilling smirk mirrored his lips and he made his way down the stairs. Eyes completely focused on you. 

You couldn’t believe he was still alive - let alone running the fucking Supremacy. His father had been an advisor of your own. A part of a small council that ran the whole operation. Hux had been around when you were a kid, though he was closer to Ares’ and Roman’s age than yours. 

He had been a smarmy, confident piece of shit growing up. Like a lot of people, he was at your house often. You didn’t start getting to know each other until you were a little older, around 12 or 13, before you left for boarding school. You still thought he was a cocky shit, but the two of you had something in common. 

_A disdain for Lyon._

He seemed to rub a lot of people the wrong way, though you never seemed to mind him too much. But you were a good judge of character - you knew he was manipulative, cunning, cruel even. But he had always had a good head for business, and was loyal to the Snoke family and the Order. If you knew what you were expecting, then it wasn’t that bad. 

Hux approached the bar, green eyes piercing as he walked closer. He spoke your name with an almost unbelievable exhale. “I didn’t know you were back in town.” 

“Well, you don’t know everything.” 

“Ah, but I do. That’s my expertise.” He came to stand in front of you, looking you over before leaning against the bar nonchalantly. He looked exactly the same as you remembered, if only aged slightly, soft wrinkles around his eyes. Otherwise his hair was still perfectly gelled back, not a strand out of place, his clothes still immaculately pressed with his usual stiff and rigid posture. 

“Never the less, to what do I owe the pleasure?” His eyes shifted to the bartender behind you and he flicked his finger, his attention returned to you. Pale green eyes absorbing your figure. “Tell me you’re here for me.” You knew you were rather heavy in the chest area, and had an ass to boot, but you weren’t under the allusion you were pretty, or gorgeous by any means. In fact you felt particularly plain enough to go under the radar. Though since being home, you hadn’t felt more like the opposite. You figured it was the stark growth spurt you had under gone since you were last back home. Last everyone knew - you were just a teenager. Prepubescent and awkward. 

“Not quite,” you huffed, “I actually just wanted to talk to Lacy.” His head raised slightly, eyebrow cocked before realization dawned on his face but you spoke anyway. “She was friends with Mallory.” 

“Oh… _yes._ I’m sorry for your loss, I suppose.” You wanted to smile at his awkwardness before he sighed. “Your father has been… never mind. You came all the way here just to talk and reminisce with a stripper?” 

Again, you felt the instinctual need to lie, but resisted. “I just wanted to hear some things about Mallory’s life, since I’ve been gone so long.” It wasn’t a lie, technically. 

The bartender’s presence interrupted your conversation, and he placed two glasses of scotch down on the bar before making himself scarce. You didn’t want to drink, though now it was placed in front of you, you wanted to knock the whole thing back. 

“Anything for you.” An almost evil, calculating smirk curved his lips. “But first, let’s catch up in my office. You owe me that much.” 

“I don’t owe you anything.” 

He hummed out a laugh, signalling something you didn’t know to the bartender and gestured up the stairs towards his office. It was a short walk, though his close presence felt behind you made it feel longer than it actually was. You reached his office, and he opened the double doors, allowing you inside before shutting them behind you. 

It was a big area, not wide, but particularly long as it recessed into the building. Half of the office was glass, giving a perfect view to the club below. It was dark grey walls with a flourish of a red velvet couch. A desk with a few papers were scattered on it, and you noticed it was devoid of any type of computer. You guessed your father was still paranoid about any digital trails leading to evidence that could prove hurtful. 

“Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the red velvet seat situated opposite his desk. “It’s been a long time. What have you been up to all these years?” 

You walked forward, taking a sip of your drink before collapsing into the comfortable seat, eyes watching Hux as he rounded the desk and followed suit. “Studying…” you shrugged, “working… enjoying life away from my family.” 

“It would appear so.” Hux’s eyes flashed with something, and a smirk graced his lips again. “He sent you off to boarding school, you graduated, and never came back. Clearly you were off having fun.” 

“Fun is for children.” 

“Which you are not.” Again Hux looked over your form. 

“You know what he’s like, it’s why I didn’t come back. Why are you still here?” 

“I’ve worked hard to get where I am today, my loyalty and allegiance to the First Order and the Snoke family-” 

“And look what you have to show for it; _a strip club_?” You interrupted his tirade. “You’ve done far more than Lyon has and less to show for it. You respect nepotism?” 

His nostrils flared at the mention of your brother and you knew that he was still a sore spot for Armitage. “That is but one instance. Not everyone of import in the Order is of your father’s blood.” 

You nodded, “Phasma?” 

“ _Ren._ ” 

It was your turn for your nostrils to flare and you quirked a brow. “My father’s bodyguard?” 

“That’s a simplification. I wish his duties were that insignificant.” 

“Well they are now.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’s been tasked as my bodyguard while I’m here.” 

Hux leaned forward at this, elbows resting on his desk, his interest suddenly focused. “Is that so?” 

“Why is that so interesting?” This piqued your curiosity. “What does he do for my father exactly?” 

Hux seemed to choose his next words carefully. “Ren is his… _fidus Achates_ , his _saboteur_ , his _right hand man_.” 

You got that sense with how often he was in your father’s office. He was even in his office when he had kicked Lyon out earlier. If anything that was conducive to the fact that he was more trusted than any other man you knew about in the Order. Even when you were a kid, your father didn’t have any men that seemed permanently glued to the shadowy corners of the room. 

“Whatever problems your father has, Ren makes them go away.” 

“So like his hitman?” You ask. 

“More like a rabid animal.” Hux spat the words, and you gathered there was a little contempt from the red headed man. “Kept on leash by only your father and let loose whenever he pleases. You thought he was ruthless before you left? Well, Ren is solving every problem with bloodshed and violence.” 

“Unnecessarily?” You sipped your drink, leaning back into your seat. 

“No, your father points his finger, and Ren takes care of the rest… _destroys everything in his path._ ” 

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. “If he’s so important why would my Dad assign him to me?” 

This made Hux smirk. “Precisely.” 

You had your perceptions about Armitage, you had known him since you were young. While you didn’t trust him exactly, you trusted that you knew him well enough to talk about Mallory. 

“He thinks something happened to Mallory.” 

“I know.” Hux sipped the amber liquid. “We’ve talked about it. While Ren handles the… _messier_ assignments, my strength is acquiring knowledge and intel.” 

“And what have you found out?” 

“Nothing.” He didn’t look like he was lying, not that you were sure what that even looked like. “Not yet, anyway. Is that why you’re here?” 

You sipped your drink again, if only to stall time before you answered. “I just wanted to talk to Lacy, but yes.” 

“And now look at you, talking to me. Isn’t this so much better?” 

Your mind couldn’t help but wander, back to Kylo. So much mystery surrounded him, leaving you in the dark and Hux was finally providing a little light on the situation. And he seemed rather accepting to share. You made a mental note to think of some questions to ask him, hoping that he would give some truthful answers. 

About to open your mouth, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you pulled it out of your pocket to see a message from your father. And two missed calls. 

___**Where are you? We’re having an early dinner. Just family.** _ _ _

You withheld a sigh that wanted to escape, and you looked back to your company. “I’ve got to go.” You threw back the rest of your whiskey and put it on his desk before standing up. 

“So soon?” Hux mirrored your movements. “You just got here.” 

“I’ll see you soon.” 

He grabbed a pen and paper off his desk, handing it to you. “write down your number, when Lacy comes in I’ll let you know.” 

You wanted to question his helpfulness but decided against it. Feverishly writing down your digits and handing it back to him instead. “Thanks, Hux.” 

“Of course.” 

Leaving the Supremacy left you feeling a little defeated. Even though Hux said he would text you when Lacy was next in, it meant today had come to a standstill, stagnant in your search for information. Your next plan was to head to the penthouse, see what possessions of Mallory’s was still around, however, your fathers text had brought that idea to a standstill. Maybe you could go later tonight, when everything had calmed down? Jumping back into your car, you sent a quick reply to your Dad 

___**Just at the store getting tampons, leaving now.** _ _ _

You hoped he was grossed out enough by a woman’s basic bodily functions to not want to reply. Starting your car, the V8 grumbling loudly. You pulled from the curb and headed to the direction of your house. 

Seeing Hux again after so many years was a refreshing change of pace. He acted the same as he did all those years ago and looked the same too, save for a few wrinkles displaying the passage of time. The two of you catching up was good, and he had divulged some impertinent information regarding your new ‘ _bodyguard_ ’ that proved fruitful. You hoped next time he would be even more forthcoming. 

The drive home was shorter than you expected, just less than an hour. Traffic was light, and you were pulling into the Snoke driveway before you knew it. You wished it had dragged on longer, you half preferred sitting in your car than going inside to drink and eat with your family. You hadn’t shed a single tear at the funeral earlier today, and you expected the strong facade you had adapted was going to falter. 

As you drove down the long winding driveway, rounding the towering willow trees either side you came into view of the house, and then the garage. The electronic door at the very end already open, you didn’t have time to be confused as a tall, dark form came into view. 

Kylo. 

He was standing in your spot, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as his dark eyes stared at you. His stoic form didn’t move until you came forward, moving so you could park your car in the area he had occupied. You killed the engine once you parked and didn’t have time to open your door before he had done it for you. 

“Welcome home.” You grabbed your belongings from the seat beside you and looked up at the man standing over you. Once you were clear, he shut the drivers side door, and blocked the way to inside the house. You tried to maneuver around him but he moved to defer you. 

This caused you to sigh. Your eyes darted up to meet his. 

“Yes?” 

“Your father’s been worried.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I was gone for a few hours, so that’s his problem.” 

“And his problems become my own.” He stepped forward, the small distance between you became even smaller. “If you don’t want me to come with you then you at least need to tell me where you’re going.” 

It was obvious now what he was getting at. Your little field trip to go see Hux had apparently not gone unnoticed. Or, well, to the store to get tampons if your message was to be believed. You didn’t think your father was going to be enforcing the whole bodyguard thing so intensely, or so quickly. Though an idea came to mind. 

“You seem like a moderately intelligent guy…” Your eyes looked over his form. “Built for brute force rather than a boring protective detail of the little old likes of me.” His full, pink lips encompassed the cigarette to take a puff and it almost momentarily made you falter. His hum pulled you from your thoughts of what they could have felt like and you continued. “I have a proposition for you.” 

“And what would that be?” 

“Surely you have more important things to deal with. Which is why, if you want to do your own thing while I do my own, that’s totally understandable - in fact, its actually preferable.” For the first time since you’ve been home you tried to plaster a welcoming smile on your face. Trying hard to seem like a demure little girl your Dad had painted you to be. 

Kylo expelled a huff of breath, something akin to a laugh. Your smile faltered slightly at the thought of him laughing at you. 

“Your father relies on my ability to perfectly…” he searched for the proper words, throwing his cigarette over your shoulder onto the concrete behind you. “ _execute_ whatever he asks of me.” 

“And you can do that, really make a difference!” It was hard to try appear as chipper as you were. Manipulation was a hard game, and you were not a happy person. “Instead of following me to the mall, or to see my friends while I’m here, you can strive to make my Dad proud.” 

You weren’t much of a shopper, and you had no friends here to speak of. It was a low shot, but you hoped by his assumptions on your gender and what most women liked to do, you could get away with the lie. 

“Your father informed me of your shrewd capabilities.” You didn’t know it was possible but he walked forward another step, closing the distance between you two. You had to strain your head to look up at him. He spoke with a deep conviction that conveyed anger being tethered by a small sliver of control. “It’s why he chose me for the job. I won’t be swayed so easily, especially by a spoiled little princess.” 

Your smile faltered, and you felt your rage flourish at his words. Suddenly, you couldn’t be bothered with this shit. You would think about it later, when your mind wasn’t so clouded with the thought of Mallory. “Good luck.” You moved past him, looking over your shoulder as you walked into the door that led to the house, shooting him one last look. “Haven’t you heard? _I’m cursed_.” 

He watched you walk away, exhaling the last cloud of smoke through his nostrils. The door to the garage slammed before he dug his hand deep into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small gps tracker. Getting down on the floor, he leaned underneath your car by the rear wheel frame. Pulling off the small adhesive backing, he pressed it to the metal where it would be hidden. Flicking the switch to activate, he quickly paired the device to the app on his phone before getting up, and following suit into the Snoke manor. 


End file.
